Redefined
by peeta's-buns-don't-lie
Summary: A boy with a past that is kept secret. A girl somehow a daughter of Delphi. A god that has kept hidden for decades. An old nemesis that is brought back. A son of Hades who is blamed. Through the conspiracy, one mortal learns to see what is not in sight.
1. Delphi's Daughter

.:Redefined:.

..::Chapter One::..

...:::Delphi's Daughter:::...

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The corridor was made of stone, dripping with filthy, ice chilled water. The walls were streaked with grime and sticky sludge, webbing the stone bricks with stripes of mud. A hollow breeze was blowing by, seeming to pass everything it blew into and only freezing it further. I desperately hugged myself with my bare arms, chattering with such racket that the little clicks of noise echoed like I had chattered through a large megaphone. Maybe it was the way that sounds carried on throughout the dark, looming hallway, but I could've sworn I heard distant slithering- like huge snakes wriggling about the domed dungeon-like hall.

I turned frantically. How did I get here? I knew I had never seen this place before, but it had seemed so familiar. I knew I had somehow walked these corridors before, avoided the slime covered walls, and stepped around the dark, rippling puddles of water on the floor. It was a creepy feeling, almost as if I knew I should know and remember something but I don't.

A blast of cold air seeped through my red curls, the bluster making my green t-shirt flap back and forth. A shudder ran its way down my spine until the goosebumps rose and went, the gust of wind passing by harmlessly to claim its next victim with an icy cold wind. I knew I shouldn't stay there. I would freeze to death, certainly. And this place didn't exactly have a very homely appeal. Something about ti told me people had suffered here, as well as the structure itself. It was beaten and worn and unsound. I wasn't going to stick around and wait for it to collapse- me with it.

I took a shaky step backwards, pivoting on my heels. I faced a split tunnel that snaked out through two different doorways and leading to God knows where. I considered for a moment, until I heard a slithering noise like a giant serpent and a quaking roar down the other. I decided it was best to go the other way.

I looked at the tunnels expectantly, like a horrible creature would somehow emerge from the gaping shadowy door. I reminded myself that it wouldn't help much if I stood there like a dead log. I gathered my senses and spun, dashing down the other direction of the corridor before I could tell myself otherwise.

I avoided the black shadows in case something was lurking beneath them. But soon, with chills running down my spine in a racing shudder, I came upon a U-turn with light protruding from the shadows like the opening to heaven. I wouldn't take this enticing appeal for granted, though, because my leap of relief faded quicker than it had arrived. I soon heard two gruff voices on the other side, both of them seemed wildly familiar.

I listened, straining my hearing and cupping a shaking hand around my ear.

"- really want to eat me, don't you?" a boy's voice rattled and echoed down the hall. It sent jolts of electricity through my veins.

If voices could have weight, the next one would have weighed tons. "Yes. You look delicious. I haven't had demigod casserole in many moons. But, unfortunately, I cannot. The boss said not to."

_Demigod. Boss. Delicious?_

"Not to eat me?" the boy sounded surprised, but thankful. "But I thought she'd love to see me be baked into a dining platter."

"The boss said you could be a part of us someday. You had a 'bright future'," the strong voice said in disgust, and I heard him pretend to gag spontaneously. "I con't know what's wrong with the boss, but it sure has something to do with what happened yesterday."

"Oh really?" the voice was nothing compared to the second one. "And what exactly happened yesterday?"

A few heavy footsteps shook the cavern of stones and I flattened myself against the wall.

"That's for me to know, and for you to shut up. The boss said _nothing _about throwing you off of a cliff."

"Is that so?" the other voice smarted off. "Your 'boss' won't be too happy when the boy with the bright future is found in pieces at the bottom of a cliff, now will he?"

I heard a snort of rage, huge footsteps that turned into a run, and I felt and heard something smash against the wall. It began to crack and crumble, the wall behind me, and I prayed with all my heart that the tunnel wouldn't collapse.

It apparently worked, because the wall stopped shaking and the room went intensely quiet. At first, I thought the room had collapsed on its own, but I remembered the light. It was still flooding into the tunnel like distinct water, so it obviously was still perfectly in order.

"I don't know why you crazies think I'm special in any way," the boy said, snorting and chuckling like he thought it was hilarious someone wanted to throw him off of a cliff.

"I thought I told you to shut your mouth," the large voice snapped.

"Whatever." I heard chains rattling, like marbles in a vase.

"I'll be right back," the loud voice replied. "I think I'll just cook up your arm or something. Arms can be replaced, right?"

The small voice went quiet, and the bigger one laughed, cackling furiously.

More sets of distinguishing footsteps shook the tunnels and made dust and dirt fly from the ceiling. It took me only a moment to realize that the footsteps were coming my way. I was frozen for many seconds, listening to the huge footsteps approach and a shadow cast along the patch of light streaming from the room. I caught on to my senses and snapped back to reality. I jumped to the side, into the slimy shadows. I tried not to grimace and shoot up in disgust when I felt something cold run down my arm like ice water.

I waited impatiently for the man-or thing- to pass. Pass without noticing me. Soon, something dark and bulging emerged from the light and was swallowed by shadows. I could barely even see the outline of the creature, but I could definitely see it was too large for a normal human. I held my breath and made no noise audible as the monster disappeared down the halls and around a corner I noted not to go down.

I finally released a puff of air. A cold mushroom cloud of vapor showed my breath in the air, as I hugged my shoulders and pulled myself off the ground and on my feet. The air was rigid and clouded with intense silence. I looked once more at the corridor the monster went into. No sign of it. My only option, though, right now, was to go the way it had came.

I stared at the flood of light. No noise escaped the room now. I decided it was safe, if not mid-safe.

I leaped around the corner without further hesitation, just in case I backed down. Terror clogged my lungs and I wheezed a noisy gulp of oxygen before peering around the corner. The room was humongous. With stony dirt walls and dirt floor, a cauldron planted in the center with green liquid bubbling and popping inside it, it looked like a witch's lair. The smell was like rotting flesh, raw meat, oil, burning coal smoke, and dry blood- like hot metal you could taste in the air itself. I retreated instinctively but reminded myself if I went the other way, I was surely doomed to spending the rest of my life in a monster's stomach.

I skirted around the corner gingerly, as if the wall was on fire and covered with pointed knives. I stalked my way into the room with careful precision, in case this room really _was _about to collapse. I made my way to the center, my eyes darting around the room. I kept clear of the liquid. It smelled tainted of poison and acids. I dared not get any more than five feet from it.

No matter how much my instincts told me to run, I stayed firmly planted in the middle of the room. When I heard the chains rattle and the sharp, small footsteps sound form the darkest corner, I thought I would die of fear.

I stared at the shadow, my eyes narrowing. I backed aways from it, avoiding the cauldron, my hands outstretched like I really though I could take on one of those creatures. But the more I stood there and the more I realized I wasn't being killed, the more ridiculous I felt. It was even worse when I heard a soft chuckle.

"I won't eat you."

It took me by surprise. My eyes raked the room intensely and as fierce as I could allow, when it spoke again.

"I'm not a Cyclops. It's fine. Trust me. I'm a half-blood."

Something emerged from the shadows and was engulfed with warm light. It wasn't exactly as I had expected, and I felt pretty embarrassed.

He looked like a regular teenage boy, with dark brown hair and blue eyes, an orange t-shirt with a bronze breastplate covering the front. He stared at me like I was a psycho, but with understanding. His expression was blank until he smiled and walked forward.

"What is a mortal doing here?" he said. "A daughter of Delphi, no less."

"A daughter of-?"

"You need to get out of here," he said. "Dreams become reality if you remain in them so long."

Before I could reply, he reached out a hand and waved it across me. It was like I was at the bottom of a lake, clear water rippling and blurring my vision. I felt like I was sinking slowly, darkness enveloped me, and all sounds and sights were distant and away.

_A daughter of Delphi._

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_Hm._ Cliffy! Reviews are appreciated, flames are openly accepted. **(:**


	2. Author's Note: Taking OC Requests

Taking requests for OCs!

Fill this out in a review, or inbox message:

Name:

Age:

God parent:

Personality:

Skill:

Weapon:

Hair/Eye color:

I need at least two, but that doesn't mean I can add OCs as extras! I'll get back to you soon,


	3. The Forbidden Room

.:Redefined:.

..::Chapter Two::..

...:::The Forbidden Room:::...

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I threw open the door to my apartment. With a heavy sigh, I trudged up the last two stairs and groped for the handle. The door slammed from behind me when I flung it back into place carelessly, plopping my bag onto the shabby counter-top. It clanged and echoed, threatening to roll off the side and loudly topple to the floor.

Instead of picking it up (what I would've done if Mom was there), I kicked it aside with my foot before it landed. It was thrown to the corner, where I left it without a bother. I wasn't really in the mood to pick it up, which meant having to get up, walk all the way to the end of the kitchen (five feet away), and bend over to pick it up. It, of course, would be a horrible amount of effort.

I kicked off my shoes. They clopped to the tiled floor, shattering the silence that seemed to fill the entire household (or was it apartment-hold?). It was clearly unusual. On a regular afternoon, I would come home to blaring alt rock, dated twenty years ago. I would've been greeted with a cheerful kiss on the cheek, a sloppy wet one, and a plate of freshly made PP&J sandwiches covered with plastic wrap on a plate that was already set on the counter. I would see my mom, paint splattered across her cheek and fingers, a freshly wet paintbrush in her hand, while she showed me her latest artistic work.

None of it seemed to come, though. I peered around the doorways that led into the small art room that had originally been a walk-in closet. My mom had said that art was more important than extra closet space.

The whole apartment was deathly quiet. I was listening, straining my ears for some noise to come, but nothing did. Panic arose in my chest, flaring my heart rate by one thousand beats per minute. Thoughts and ideas of worst-case scenarios played over and over in my mind- my mother being sacked by a criminal, her screaming for my help, or anyone's help. I bit my lip, my fists clenching.

I was nervous to wonder where she might be. Had she gone to the store? Had she actually been taken? No, no. She's too independent and fierce, tough for that. If anyone tried to grab her, she'd probably knock them out with one swing of a canvas.

But the more I thought about it, the more I thought it was true. I quickly tried to stop myself. She's fine. It's all okay. She must be into her painting. She must be wearing ear phones instead of blaring music. She must be in her own paint world, too occupied to notice me come home. That's the real reason.

I gathered my wits before plunging into the hallway.

I wasn't surprised to find it was empty and just as quiet as the kitchen was. My eyes scanned the hallway critically, pausing at my mom's room. The door was cracked ever so slightly; a small stream of light was being let through- a golden stripe on the shadowed carpet, which displayed drops of astray multicolor paint. I held my breath, leaning left. As far as I could see, nothing was wrong. It was calm and quiet, the normal. But the silence scratched those adjectives completely out of the question. A sliver of terror slithered up my spine. I dared myself to keep going, and I obeyed with reluctance.

I opened my mouth, letting a cool flow of air be herded inside. The air tasted like fresh paints. My lips began to chap, so I moistened them with a swift lick before croaking, "M-mom?"

I listened, and without surprise, nothing came.

Something inside me was dying of hope. It was like I knew it was something horrible, deep inside. It wasn't my imagination just jumping to conclusions. I hated the feeling of this, but I tried my best to ignore it.

"Mommy?" I hadn't called her that in years.

I was startled to hear a shuffling sound to my right. I whirled around, panicking. The only thing there, to my relief, was a door. It was closed. It was also the door to the room my mom told me never to go inside of.

I stared at it longing, anticipated, but with fear. What could be inside that door? A federal criminal? My mom? It was all too much for me. I had to find out, even if my own common sense told me to turn and run despite my instincts.

I reached out a hand and pressed my palm on the cold knob gingerly, like it was a burning coal. I winced as the cold surface settled itself into my skin like melting ice. It was so cold it was hot in my grasp.

I stared at my hand with anxiety pulsing through my blood like hot fire. It was fire against ice, now, fighting against impulse and doubt. Impulse won.

I closed my eyes, and turned the knob. I heard the door squeak open with a few creaks and squawks before completely silence. I was afraid to open my eyes, they were glued shut, zipped, boarded- every security defense.

"Mindy?" A small voice whispered.

My eyes instantly flew open. I wasn't able to keep them closed.

My mom sat, cross legged, on the floor. A bathrobe was draped across her back over her shirt and jeans. Her face was a shadow under a curtain of dark red hair, a curly mane of frizz. I couldn't see her green eyes, though, but I could see dark circles and worry wrinkles under them.

Something caught my eyes, and my focus was torn away from her. Old art canvases were stood in a ring around her. One directed my attention straight to it. It looked like a boy, dark hair and piercing sea green eyes. Something about him seemed really familiar, but I was almost completely sure I had never seen him in my lifetime. But the way his eyes sparkled- it was like he was bragging to me that he knew something I didn't.

I hated that feeling.

My thoughts were interrupted.

"Mindy, I thought I told you never to..." My mother faltered, like she didn't have the means to finish.

"I got worried," I whispered into the quiet room uncertainly. "Are you okay?"

She bit her lip and raised her head. Her eyes were sad and cluttered with worries. "I'm just… stressed, is all, hon. I'm fine. Yeah, I'm perfectly okay."

"Do you need anything?" I continued. I wasn't really sure what to make of this. She was the happiest adult I had ever known- a child at heart. Now she seemed twice her age, small, withered, and helpless.

She raised her hand. Her expression was blank and distant, like she was in a trance. Her eyes were suddenly hard and cold, emerald gems as hard as stones. "I just…" she breathed hard and shallow, "I haven't seen anything since I had you… he said they were gone forever…"

"Do you need anything?" I asked again.

Her eyebrows furrowed in fury. "I need to get the prophecy out of my head!" she yelled. "I can't stand it! I thought I was done with that camp fourteen years ago!"

"What are you saying?" I choked. "Mom, just lay down and go to sleep. I think you're-"

"Crazy?" she interrupted. "It's nothing. I'm just… sick. I need sleep."

She seemed to be waking up from a long nap, stretching and yawning while she rose from her seat on the carpet.

I watched her, frozen, as she turned and ruffled my hair before disappearing around the corner.

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Reviews and flames alike are welcome (:


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